


See You On The Flip Side

by LadyDrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Monologue, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 16:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel offers his thoughts on a variety of subjects. But mostly about Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You On The Flip Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mithrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/gifts).



> Beta: Biggelois. Any mistakes are purely because I ignored her advice.  
> Notes: 2011 birthday present for Mithrel!

Do you know why Sam is my favorite Winchester? It's because I love a good prank. And the best pranks are the ones you never see coming. In good comedy, surprise is everything.

 

I mean, you look at him and you think: ”Cute, but kind of an oaf.” And for the longest time, that's all you'll see. He'll lumber about, all friendly and harmless and then when you're absolutely convinced that he's a complete saint who's just one fry short of a Happy Meal, then WHAM! He'll stick his shockingly long leg out and you'll fall flat on your face. And even though you know for a _fact_ that he's the culprit, he'll just sit there looking innocent until you start thinking you probably made a mistake. That it couldn't possibly be sweet, gormless Sam.

 

Unless, of course, you can see inside his head like I can. And trust me, on the inside, he's laughing his ass off. That alone would make me like him, as a person. Then of course, there's the detail about him being ol' Lucy's vessel.

 

Don't even get me _started_ on the whole vessel issue. Even we angels can see how absurdly intimate it is for someone to _be made to have another being inside them_. No matter how you choose to interpret the phrase. I choose the kinkier translation, obviously. Because you can't beat the classics.

 

Speaking of jokes, it can't get much funnier than me getting a boner for my brother's meat suit. Especially when said brother has sort of become the all-time symbol of evil. Yeah. If it wasn't so hilarious, I'd cry big, fat tears over how screwed up it is. But I kinda like things screwed up. Why do you think I got it on with Kali?

 

She's a cool chick, though. She arranged for me to have the body I've been wearing for a few hundred years. Brand-spankin' new with no sticky soul inside. You might think it's easy getting yourself some meat-wrapping when you're an archangel - slash - minor deity, but it isn't. Not unless you want to do the whole hostile take-over thing and trust me, you don't. The only reason demons can do it is because they're fucked up in the first place. But Kali knows some neat tricks in the life and death department so she was able to fudge a few details for me. It's all about who you know.

 

By the way, did you know that humans were shorter in the middle ages? Well, they were. A _lot_ shorter. I could of course make it look like I was taller, but not only would it be temporary, it wouldn't do me any favors. If you find yourself up a certain creek with no paddle, you'd be amazed how much more likely humans are to help you if you're short and cute.

 

This is why I stick around on Earth. They're all about kittens and lollipops here. Okay, maybe not so much, but at least humans are _fun_. Did Castiel ever tell you that Uriel was the funniest angel in the garrison? Believe me, the only funny thing about that guy was that he actually thought we _was_ funny. Which he wasn't. All of these minor angels might as well be cardboard cut-outs with their lack of personality. Only Castiel shows promise and that's at least in part down to spending time on Earth, but mostly it's because of the Winchesters.

 

My brothers used to be funny. You know, back before it all went to Hell... or Lucifer did anyway. Then it all degenerated into this _ridiculous_ family feud, still going strong millennium after millennium. If dear old Dad ever decides he's done moping in the basement or wherever the fuck he is, then he can kiss my ass, because he could have stopped all of this if he wanted to. Which he clearly didn't.

 

So here we are. The fate of God's pet project is resting on the shoulders of two nut-jobs with _no_ respect for the natural order, a mechanic with a book collection, and a minor angel falling at warp speed. Oh goodie. And they expect me to help them? Told ya. Nut-jobs.

 

The thing about nut-jobs is that even when you can look inside their heads, what you see doesn't always make any sense. I made the mistake of thinking the Winchesters were just regular humans, but I'm not too proud to admit when I'm wrong. And I was. I looked through those thick skulls and I saw crazy-town. Those two are simply teeming with delicious tensions and mommy-daddy-anyone issues and I confess I fell for it. I got sucked right in and started poking them with the proverbial stick. It was just too easy, and I guess that should have been my first clue.

 

What I failed to recognize is that under all that messy, emotional hoo-haw, they're both pure souls. Dean in particular would get his panties in a bunch about this, but it's true. Now, I know what you're gonna say. How can someone who spent years torturing people in Hell be pure? How can someone who was fed demon blood and got locked in a cage with _Satan_ be pure?

 

This is were I run out of know-how. I guess if Dad were around I could ask him, but for the purpose of this lecture, the only reason I can offer, is because _that's how it is_. Maybe they were just made that way, to be incorruptible or to magically be flushed lemony-fresh after every sin. Hell if I know. What I do know is this: Those two souls are the brightest to grace the Earth with their presence since the time of Christ. Oh, and he was no fun, either.

 

Which brings me back to nut-job numero uno. Sam Winchester. The funny one. It constantly amazes me how much crap he can take without turning into a complete jackass. And take it from someone who has spent an awful lot of time giving him crap, he can take a shitload. Unless of course you take away Dean, then he becomes a total drag. They're so hilariously co-dependent, it's like they're only truly alive when they're together. Even Dean seems funnier when Sam is around. I'm a trickster, so take my word for it: Dean isn't all that funny. Creative, I admit, but not funny.

 

Sam, on the other hand... now there's a guy who knows a good joke. Oh, he'll put on his best bitch-face while Dean's looking, but I know how to peek behind the curtain now. And even when he doesn't realize it himself, Sam is laughing, always laughing. It's as if he's somehow able to take a step back in his mind and appreciate the pure hilarity of his and Dean's entire lives and use it to give himself the chuckle of a lifetime. It's true that laughter is good for the soul. Maybe that's what's keeping Sam pure... I dunno. It's sure not doing the same thing for Dean, that sour puss.

 

But at least it seems little Castiel is currently doing his very best to put a smile on Grumpy's face and I'm all for that. It would do him some serious good to lighten up a bit. And lemme tell ya, nothin' lights up your life like a little lovin' from an angel. Minor angel, fallen angel, red angel, blue angel, whatever. With those of us walking the Earth, you know you're in for a good time. And this is the part where I would toot my own horn and tell you just how that statement applies to me. But you already know I'm awesome, so I'll let that one slide.

 

Which leaves only one person in this whole Muppet Show from Middle Earth to not realize his own awesomeness. Personally I think that's the greatest shame. Really. Someone should be there every day to tell that boy just how seriously amazing he is. Preferably every night too. Someone should worship that towering goofball from his smelly feet to his girly hair, sun-up to sun-down.

 

You know what? I'll do it myself! Playing dead is only fun for so long, after all. Maybe it's time for my grand re-entrance. Shake things up a little. I do so love stirring the pot. See you on the flip side, kids!

 

End


End file.
